


all the lights shining so brightly

by bummerang



Category: RWBY
Genre: Fluff, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:13:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,207
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21977146
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bummerang/pseuds/bummerang
Summary: In which they miss each other in more ways than one.Written for the 2019 Ozqrow Secret Santa.
Relationships: Qrow Branwen/Ozpin
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42





	all the lights shining so brightly

**Author's Note:**

> For i-am-slain on Tumblr.
> 
> I’m sorry it’s so late! Ran into technical difficulties. I hope you’ll enjoy some of this anyway. Happy holidays~
> 
> Prompt was ‘modern snowshoeing AU’.

If pressed, Ozpin would have said it was for the fresh air and solitude. Very little compared to the snowy hills above Argus Lodge. Ozpin had been walking for a little over two hours. He was going back down the hill now, through a small forest with its branches heavily clumped with snow. He kept his pace leisurely to relieve the stress in his right leg, and to enjoy the peace of the forest, listening to the wind gently pitching high through the trees.

He was fond of the later months. Cold weather, clearer city skies, and a veritable mountain of cinnamon-pumpkin treats. But the holidays didn’t mean much to him, which was a blessing. Certainly, he kept bowls of candy to spoil trick-or-treaters. He enjoyed baking turkey-shaped pumpkin spice cookies and white chocolate snowmen biscuits for the office. But this had little to do with festivities. He just liked sweets, and liked sharing them.

He used to celebrate holidays. Costumes and cranberry sauce and plastic trees too tall for the ceiling. There used to be laughter, and dinosaurs drawn into the flour strewn over the countertop, and marshmallows roasted over a Bunsen burner. He used to make up stories for his children.

These days, he would leave flowers at the hilltop cemetery once a month. Three years ago, he’d taken up baking again. It was the only thing bearable about the holidays.

Well. That, and Qrow.

Qrow wasn’t much for holidays either—allergic to cinnamon and cheer, he’d once said—but family was a major priority. Ozpin found it terribly endearing. Here was a person who could go from artful disinterest to sitting in the snow and making three hundred tiny snowmen with his niece.

Ozpin and Qrow spent their first Christmas together last year. There had been peppermint cookies (Ozpin) and spaghetti with gravy (Qrow had burned everything else), presents underneath a tinsel tree (a stack of spicy chocolate bars for Ozpin, a silver bracelet for Qrow), and a quiet walk around the neighborhood. Ozpin had forgotten his gloves. Qrow had warmed his hands with his own, and somehow it felt like the most intimate moment they’d ever had, leaning close together on the steps to their apartment building, in each other’s hands.

This year, Qrow was spending the last half of December at his brother-in-law’s before his nieces continued their school year. Ozpin had packed him five extra pairs of socks and a paper towel full of gingerbread cookies for the wait at the airport, and wished him a safe trip from the warmth of their doorway.

He begrudged Qrow nothing. But the apartment still stood empty, and for the first time since they decided to try this relationship, Ozpin didn’t know what to do with that.

So he indulged an old hobby—or habit, rather.

The hills of Argus Lodge were an old haunt. The first time, he came after the funeral with nothing but a coat and scarf over his suit. He’d needed somewhere unfamiliar and just—away. He’d tried trudging up the trail before the proprietor of the lodge caught him and practically dragged him in, dumping him in front of a fireplace and gesturing with inarticulate frustration at his dress shoes. He didn’t tell James about his reasons until later, mostly because he’d thought it would be impolite to interrupt him in the middle of his impromptu snowshoe lesson.

He’d kept coming back after that. Snowshoeing gave him something to do without having to think. Sometimes he followed the designated trails, and sometimes he’d go other ways for something new. He’d walk the hills until the cold was too much, until he couldn’t take the ache in his leg. And occasionally, looking out at the view from the top of a hill, at the forests and the snow and the city so distant below, all beneath the endless sky, it was easy to forget that anything else mattered.

Until Qrow came with him one day. Specifically, Qrow had followed him out of concern, stubbornly stomping through the snow, and Ozpin hadn’t known how to turn him away.

He was glad he’d never learned.

Another half an hour later, he broke through the edge of the forest. Ahead, there was a nearby copse of snow-laden trees, and past that, not too far in the distance, he could see the top of James’ lodge. Ozpin looked out at the expanse of white and felt something settle in his heart. It had been some time since his last visit. He’d missed these hills, and the view—

At the edge of the copse, something red was sticking out from underneath a downed tree.

-

The sound of crunching snow drew closer. For a good two seconds, Qrow thought he was about to be murdered. Then something nudged his shin.

“You said you were staying an extra week with your nieces.”

 _Oz_. He was relieved. And then he realized something. “How’d you know it was me? From my ass?”

“Well. It’s distinctive.”

While it wasn’t exactly the sort of relationship progress Qrow wanted to make, he couldn’t say it wasn’t a good sign.

“You lied.”

The tone wasn’t accusatory, but Qrow still winced. “I wanted to surprise you. Did you really think Ruby and Yang would want me in their hair for two weeks?”

There was no response from Ozpin.

Ah, shit. This was rare. His plan worked all too perfectly, it seemed. Qrow wiggled fruitlessly against the branches, but he only succeeded in making his snow rut bigger. “I’m sorry, I didn’t—”

—get to say the rest because Ozpin pulled on his ankle, and then Qrow was dragged slowly back into much colder air.

“Ah, there you are.” Ozpin smiled down at him, and Qrow’s heart skipped an entire fifteen seconds of beating. “I suppose you’ve accomplished your objective. I am very surprised.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, but there were butterflies in his chest. “So, imagine you’re me—semi-tall, dark, and handsome—and you get home after a fuck-all long flight with the layover from hell, and you find your actually-tall partner not wrapped up on the couch like you expected him to be.” He could be having this conversation upright, but getting up was hard when his whole body felt like a block of ice. “After a couple phone calls, it turns out he’s off on a mountain, brooding.”

“I was not brooding,” Ozpin said, which meant he definitely was.

Qrow held up his hands. “Help me up first.”

Ozpin did. Luckily, Qrow hadn’t snapped his snowshoes when he’d fallen head over ass down the hill like the uncoordinated dumbfuck he was. The last time that happened, James gave him the evil eye for a whole hour, and Qrow wasn’t up for that kind of passive-aggressive judgement right now. Especially not after he’d just begged him for a favor.

“You really thought I’d just leave you by yourself?”

“You can’t have it both ways,” Ozpin said, laughing quietly. “Either you think you’d fooled me or you think I knew what you had planned.”

“Sue me. I’m greedy.”

“I’d much rather kiss you, if you don’t mind.”

“I’m minding that you haven’t done it alre— _mmph_.”

It was surprisingly forceful, though Qrow wondered if that was more to do with the cold fucking up their coordination. His hands found themselves on Ozpin’s shoulders, which was quite a feat considering he wasn’t really in control of them anymore. And Ozpin’s gloves were large and ridiculous on his face.

“I don’t think this is working.”

“Nah, me neither.” He bent to pick up his poles. It only took three tries. “Come on. Jimmy’s got a room ready for us.”

“That can’t be possible. It’s fully booked up.”

“There was a vacancy.”

“Qrow, what did you do?”

Qrow put a hand—and a pole— on his chest. “I am shocked and offended and super surprised you think I can do anything with Jimmy’s booking system. Computers are Summer’s thing, not mine.”

“Cocersion.”

“ _Request_. I just asked him to do a buddy a favor.” Qrow paused significantly. “ In case this isn’t clear, the buddy is you, because he still thinks I’m a pile of animated trash.”

Ozpin frowned. “He does not. And why would he do me a favor?”

“Because your partner suspected he’d fucked up somewhere and wanted to make up for it?”

It seemed to take a moment for this to process. Ozpin opened his mouth, then closed it again. Then he said, “You persuaded James to kick someone out of their room for me?”

“Nope, I got Jacque Schnee kicked out of his room for you. Merry Christmas. Or something.”

“Qrow.”

“He was all for it. Made up something about mold or whatever. It’s a Merry Christmas to Winter, too, technically.”

“No, I mean— _Qrow_.” Ozpin was smiling. “Thank you.”

Qrow wished he could hug him, but if he let go of his poles now he would never be able to hold them again. “Wow, no moral dilemma for you?”

“It would be wasted on Jacques.”

“Summer was right. I am a terrible influence, and I love it.”

-

Much later, after a hot shower and a meal to resuscitate the circulation in their limbs, they kissed properly. In the steam-filled doorway, under the unsubtle mistletoe above the fireplace, on the plush couch. They threw the pillows to the fluffy rug and settled in front of the fire, Qrow curled behind Ozpin, his chin resting on the top of Ozpin’s head. Ozpin found it difficult to stay awake with Qrow combing his fingers through his hair.

“So, did I fuck up after all?”

Ozpin sighed. “No. Of course not.”

“Then why did you come up here?”

“You can’t assume that my coming up here is always because of something.” He took Qrow’s hand and pressed his lips to the knuckles. “It hasn’t been that way in some time.” _Since you_ , he didn’t say, because he wasn’t certain either of them could take something like that.

“But it was like that this time.” Qrow pulled gently at Ozpin until he turned. “You know you can talk to me, yeah?”

That didn’t make talking any easier, especially like this, pressed close with Qrow’s open gaze upon him. But this was Qrow asking, and he didn’t ask anything often.

“Please understand that this doesn’t have anything to do with you.” When Qrow nodded, Ozpin continued. “I woke up this morning and remembered that the apartment was empty.” It had been jarring, to go from a full house to a house of one. It was why he’d sold it and moved to something smaller. They haunted him less that way. “It’s a familiar feeling. Too familiar. And the walking was the only thing I could think of to do. It’s—something like a balancing act.” He squeezed Qrow’s hand gently. “I didn’t mean to worry you.”

Qrow squeezed back. “So next time I’ll just be unsurprising, then.”

Ozpin laughed. “I’m not sure you’ve ever been unsurprising in your life.”

“First time for everything.”

Ozpin leaned in closer, and took both of Qrow’s hands in his own. He held them like he was making a prayer. “Not this, I hope. Please go on surprising me.”

-

Most days, Qrow could believe his luck.

There was something about the routine of things fucking up that just made things easier, in a way. Disaster plans from A to K, and damage control from L to Z. Give him a broken nail or a flat tire or a jammed copier, and he would be in his element.

It was the small problems that really hurt, in the end. A million little things going wrong in a life made up mostly of millions of little things. In the face of that, what could he ever really hope for?

Years ago, when he’d followed Ozpin in the snow, it wasn’t with hope that Ozpin would tell him anything. He just wanted to make sure he was all right before Ozpin inevitably told him to _go away, please and thank you_. But the latter didn’t happen, and Qrow felt something terrible bloom somewhere deep within, something he didn’t have the cash or the fortitude to entertain.

There had been a date (to the aquarium, because he had a pass from Taiyang), and then another (back to the aquarium, because Ozpin liked looking at the seals), and then _dates_ (to dinner, to lunch, and breakfast on the subway, and breakfast on the office roof, and breakfast in bed).

Qrow didn’t have hope. He was too afraid for that. But he was in love, and that saw him through eight months of breakfasts in bed until they decided to share that bed as well as an apartment.

Even now, lying together under two down comforters before an enormous fireplace, Qrow believed in his luck. Something could happen at anytime to break this thing they had. Everything was breakable, after all.

But with his head tucked beneath Ozpin’s chin, and Ozpin contently snoring into his hair, he wondered if maybe it was time to face his fear.

There would be a new morning soon, and the best thing was that he didn’t have to believe in it to know it would come.

-


End file.
